


Christian

by heyitsmemi



Category: Persona 5
Genre: (to an extent), Aged-Up Character(s), Akira is just living his worst life, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angel!Ryuji, Blood and Violence, Catherine Crossover, Demon!Akechi, Eventual Happy Ending, Except for Akira. Someone save him, I promise despite the tags he's gonna end up with one person only, I'm not even kidding despite the tropes it's actually a fun ride, M/M, Nightmares, Pining, Sexual Tension, Well. Some people are special though, dumbassery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-30 02:35:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20807108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyitsmemi/pseuds/heyitsmemi
Summary: Akira more or less considers himself a normal person; he has a job, a group of friends to hang out with, and a relationship of five years - nothing out of the ordinary. That is, until one day two guys show up in his life who have the power to turn it all upside down within a second, essentially forcing him to make a decision. He can choose to stay in the familiarity of what he knows, decide to follow the call of something different with promises of new and exciting, or discard both and choose outside of the box.Tldr; A Catherine: Full Body experience applied to Persona 5, which allows you to enjoy this fic even if you know nothing about Catherine and are just here to watch Akira suffer as he is simultaneously living his worst and best life.





	Christian

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone and thank you so much for clicking! I'm very excited to share this story with you all, but before we get into this, I'd like to make a few things clear in advance, so there are not any misunderstandings.
> 
> ✘ Despite it being a crossover of Catherine, I won't always follow the exact happenigs of the game, and the characters are not the same - this basically means that the characters have their own originality, keeping more of how we know them as, even if the general idea behind them is the same as in Catherine (therefore Akira isn't exactly like Vincent, Ryuji ≠ Rin, etc.)  
✘ For those who don't know/are not interested in Catherine, I made sure the story flows in a way that you won't feel like you need to.  
✘ For those who do know Catherine: I won't write detailed scenes about the nightmares every time, as that part of the game is truly just game mechanics, and I suppose no one here is interested in me writing about Akira climbing blocks various times - it will be introduced, but later they only appear as Akira recalls moments from them here and there. And then of course it's featured in the end, where it's needed for plot.  
✘ Let me just say that Igor in this fic doesn't exactly look like he does in Persona. Like, he's still an odd, weird-looking old man... but probably a little less weird than That.  
✘ I'm going to come out and say that this fic is originally mainly intended to be ShuAke. However, if people are interested and enjoy how the story goes, I have no problem slapping two more chapters onto it to provide everyone with two other endings, true to the game - you can all decide it then, if you choose to tag along.  
✘ Thank you for taking the time to read through this. I'll let you experience the rest :) I hope you enjoy!

a huge huge thank you to @blkmvsk for creating a cover art (and several other art? i'm blessed, she deserves all he praise), and for essentially giving me this idea and prompt, providing me with help whenever needed, too. this wouldn't be here without you, you're the best, and i love you

*

The weather was cloudy and murky despite the mid-summer season, especially by the time Akira left from work a little after dark. He was working at a game developing company based in Shibuya, and although things were far from perfect, he was getting by just fine – therefore he had no real reasons to complain aside from the occasional overtime like this night. At least he could afford his own place – even if it wasn’t the _best thing ever_ – it was still a step up from when he used to live in a café’s attic after an unfortunate home situation. Then again, that wasn’t quite that bad, either. Perhaps he should visit Sojiro soon.

His thoughts came to an abrupt end as he turned the next corner and was knocked off of his feet entirely. He didn’t even have the time to yelp or curse; he just felt the heavy collision and in the next moment, he was laying flat on his back with someone on top of him.

Because of how unfortunately they fell, the stranger was practically straddling him. Akira blinked a few times, still confused but trying to take in as many information as he possibly could. The guy, seemingly about his age, had his short hair dyed blonde and stared down at him with brown eyes wide with concern.

“I’m sorry, dude! Are you okay?”

Akira nodded briefly, unsure. “I think so, yeah.”

“I didn’t mean to scare or jump on you like this!”

“That’s reassuring,” he muttered, trying to move – to no avail. The stranger was still straddling him, and Akira’s head felt a little woozy from the previous impact. “Uh… you’re still sitting on me, though.”

Realization visibly clicked in blondie’s eyes. “Oh! Sorry!” He swiftly moved off of him and offered his hand to help him up. Just then, Akira heard footsteps coming from the other end of the alley, the same way where blondie ran through and ambushed him from. He looked petrified for a moment, and Akira’s brain slowly connected the dots; guy running away from someone, not paying attention, therefore crashing into him.

“Are you in trouble?” He asked hurriedly.

“I… he can’t find me!” Blondie stated in a tone that Akira couldn’t describe as anything else but sheer panic. It made the hairs stand at the back of his neck.

“Alright, come with me!” He grabbed the stranger’s arm and ran for it, practically yanking him behind the nearest dumpster in sight, staying still and quiet while the steps faded away. He had no idea who blondie’s been running from, but somehow he didn’t want to find out.

“What happened? Are you okay?” He asked in a low tone once the immediate danger seemed to be gone.

Blondie seemed confused as he frowned a little helplessly. “I don’t… know. I can’t remember.”

“What?” He breathed, slowly realizing that perhaps there was more to this than he originally assumed. “What’s your name?”

It was the simplest, most basic question he could’ve asked, and yet he had to realize with a sinking feeling that blondie had trouble recalling even that. Several moments passed by the time he actually opened his mouth to respond.

“… Ian.”

*

“You seem busy,” Akira said in-between two sips of coffee.

The bakery was relatively quiet at this hour, and the weather outside was clear and warm, as opposed to the previous night.

“Ah, pardon me,” his boyfriend lowered his phone and placed it on the side, shrugging his shoulders in an apologetic manner. “It’s just about the new exhibition, I’ll get back to them later.”

Oh, another exhibition… there were more and more of those lately. His boyfriend was a rapidly uprising painter and a quite renowned digital artist, whose influence quickly began spreading outside of the country – namely after a particularly successful win at a university event, which opened several new doors of opportunity. His style, attractive looks and relatively young age were compelling to the people, and in the past years it felt as if he just kept on reaching higher. But Akira saw through the glory, and knew the man behind the artistic name Kristian Kitagawa more than perhaps anyone else did. And perhaps the name ‘Kristian’ stuck with them permanently now, deep down it was still the Yusuke he first met in high school.

Therefore he just flashed a brief smile. “It’s alright. Should I congratulate? The cake’s on me today for sure.”

Kristian shook his head as he smiled back. “It’s more than enough for me if you just promise me you’ll be there. It’s next week.”

“Of course.”

Akira watched as Kristian brushed some of his hair out of his eyes, careful not to touch his glasses. “There was actually something else I wished to talk to you about, though.”

He hummed, allowing Kristian to reach out and place his hands on his own over the table. “Have you ever thought about… taking our relationship to the next level?”

Despite the soothing and calm tone his boyfriend used whenever he talked, Akira could feel himself freeze and tense up uncomfortably. “Um… huh?”

It was not the most adequate expression to leave his mouth, but Kristian seemed to pay no mind to it. “I mean… we’re long out of school, Akira. Don’t you think it’s perhaps time we establish something more solid?”

“We’re twenty six,” it was not the smartest argument, and he was genuinely aware that oftentimes people went into marriage and family planning even earlier than that. Still, the way Kristian worded it made it sound like they were at least in their mid-thirties, which gave him the urge to counter.

Kristian pulled his hands back with a sigh, folding it over his chest instead as he leaned back in his seat. Uh-oh. “Exactly. We’ve known each other for ten years, and been dating for five. And yet we are still not even living together.”

There was something dry stuck in Akira’s throat. He reached for his coffee and attempted to wash it away; but it just made it move into his stomach, twisting there uncomfortably.

He was not against marriage or living together in on itself, and he loved Kristian. It was merely that he thought everything was fine the way it was, and suddenly trying to imagine something more terrified him, although he wasn’t sure _why_ exactly.

Kristian’s expression turned somewhat dejected after he didn’t answer. “Or is that not how it should be?”

Great, now he was feeling guilty. He cleared his throat, shaking his head. “No, yes… I know what you mean. Maybe we _should_ think about it.”

Kristian smiled a little as he grabbed his fork, taking a bite from his cake while Akira mindlessly stared out of the window. There was a crow sitting on the tree branch in front of the bakery, eyeing him curiously before jumping onto a lower one, letting out an ominous caw.

A chilling dark feeling overcame him, wondering if perhaps this was a bad omen; if this was supposed to be some sort of symbolism for something coming to an end that he wasn’t quite ready for. He furrowed his brows, wondering if maybe he was losing his mind. Deep down he was aware that this all stemmed from the root of the problem; he didn’t feel like he _needed_ any of the things Kristian mentioned... he wasn’t sure he wanted to take any other steps at all.

He watched the crow fly away, free, and wished he could get away in this moment, too.

*

“… and he basically said we should get married,” Akira sighed as he placed his glass down, moving to rest his chin on his palm. He didn’t usually drink too much, but this time it felt as if his hand moved on its own; reaching for another sip, and then ordering just one more.

He and his friends gathered in Bar Velvet almost every night after work; being relatively close to all of their daily routes, it served as a great meetup place to just talk and relax. Originally, Kristian used to tag along with them… that didn’t really happen lately, though.

“And… are you not interested in marriage?” Haru’s voice sounded surprised from opposite him, making him smile. She was definitely the most kindhearted one out of all of them, and her response reflected just that. She believed soulmates and true love were out there for everyone… it was rather sweet.

“Or in Kristian?” Makoto raised a brow, making Haru gasp next to her.

Ah, yes. On the other end, Makoto was the type of strong woman who was slightly more realistic and always told it as it was – it didn’t mean she was always right, though.

“That’s not true,” he pointed an accusatory finger at Makoto, who just pushed his hand away with a smile.

“Fine. But he cares about you a lot, just try not to hurt him.”

“Believe me, that’s the last thing I’d want…”

Futaba put her phone down with a groan as she crouched up on the seat next to him, leaning across the table like she was about to relay confidential information. “Guys, come on… can you _actually_ see these two getting married?”

Makoto brushed some of her hair behind her ear, pensive. “Why not? Although… I suppose I never really thought about that.”

“Exactly, neither did I!” He exclaimed, successfully gaining a few curious glances from other patrons. He blamed the alcohol. He shrunk lower in his seat, lowering his voice. “I mean, maybe. Eventually. But the point is that I _do_ love him. I just didn’t expect it to come up so suddenly, and now I just don’t feel like it would be the right thing to do. Or… not yet.”

“Sweetheart, that signals trouble,” Ann sang as she walked over to them with a tray in hand. Akira noted that nothing on it belonged to them, but that was not unusual; Ann got distracted easily during work, especially while they were around.

“What do you mean?” He asked with a sigh despite his better judgement, because he wasn’t sober enough to weigh the outcome of his decisions.

She flipped one of her pigtails back with her free hand before placing it on her hip. “You know exactly what I mean. If you feel like getting tied down next to him would be something undesirable, then that probably means something is not right.”

“Okay, now you’re just taking words out of my mouth!”

“I thought the same thing, though,” Makoto sent a smile to Ann, and Akira rolled his eyes.

“Look, I’m just saying… perhaps something _is_ wrong if it _feels_ wrong.”

“Stated love-expert Takamaki Ann,” he mumbled as he took another sip, promptly ignoring the glare sent in his direction.

“Could she be right, though?” Haru asked cautiously.

“Well, let’s see,” Futaba fixed her glasses before sending him a serious look. “When was the last time you two had sex?”

For a brief second, he thought he heard her wrong. This was not something he could’ve ever imagined his practically-sister to ever ask him. _Surely_ he heard that wrong.

“Oh, Futaba-chan, I’m not sure it’s our place to be asking that,” Haru’s embarrassed tone served as the confirmation that he in fact heard her very much correctly, making him just about choke on his own spit.

“Futaba!”

“No guys, don’t be children, this is serious!” She pressed, looking at him expectantly. “Just tell me, Akira. These things can be pretty telling.”

“She does have a point,” Ann seconded.

He opened and closed his mouth in disbelief before he groaned, scratching at the back of his neck, thinking. When _was_ the last time? “Maybe… three weeks ago? Or was it four?”

“Okay, if you have to think about it, that’s kind of bad. Also that’s a pretty long time,” Futaba began, already jumping head first into conclusions as she did.

“We were busy!” He protested stubbornly. They _were_, and that wasn’t a serious indicator of anything whatsoever.

“That is a pretty good excuse,” Makoto said quietly as she took a sip of her drink, but Akira just waved them off. He didn’t want to be wasting any more words on this particular topic.

“Whatever. To tell the truth, it does feel like things are not quite the same lately, but I assure you it doesn’t have anything to do with _that_.”

“Sometimes we just lose the old flame of our passion,” Igor’s voice startled them all as he walked beside Ann. “That is, if we let it happen.”

Igor was the owner and bartender of Bar Velvet, a pretty odd but serene old man who sometimes said cryptic things but always provided them with hospitality and their own spot at the bar, so they unanimously overlooked all the rest.

Once Akira raised a brow at him, he cleared his throat. “Ah, but I didn’t mean to intrude,” he turned to Ann instead. “Ann, dear, there are customers waiting for their drinks.”

“Oops. Sorry, boss,” Ann ducked her head apologetically before walking off towards a different table.

“Have you heard? One of our regulars died this morning,” Igor said as he turned back to them, shaking his head with a deep sigh.

“Oh, no. What happened?” Haru asked, concern evident in her voice.

“No one knows. I believe they couldn’t find a direct reason. I suppose you never really know… it’s very unfortunate.”

“It’s weird,” Ann said as she walked back to them, holding the now empty tray to her chest. “I saw him almost every night.”

Akira frowned as he took another sip of his drink. He felt bad for the guy, but he was silently also glad about the change of topic.

“Nevertheless, you kids take care of yourselves,” Igor said with a nod before walking back behind the bar.

“Man…,” Ann sighed, only to be interrupted with the sound of a guitar playing – a rather out of tune one at that. They all turned to the side, where blondie -- _Ian_ was sitting on a stool, trying to tune in an acoustic guitar, but seemingly without much luck. His had his tongue stuck out in concentration while trying to balance the instrument on his leg.

“You said you got him the job, but will he get to keep it?” He heard Makoto ask.

That was true, he did indeed introduce Ian to Igor the previous night, asking if he needed another waiter, or any help around the bar. Ian’s situation seemed pretty dire, as he found himself barely remembering who he was, without money or any belongings. Music seemed to be one of the things he remembered though, and was thus hired as an entertainer and step in waiter in case Ann needed any help. But looking at him play now, perhaps helping out with orders alone would’ve been a better plan. Igor didn’t seem to mind, though – and Akira was relieved as long as Ian got some money for rent. In the apartment right next to his.

“It does sound pretty bad,” Futaba noted with an apathetic expression.

“He’ll be fine,” Akira stated. In an odd way, he almost felt responsible for the guy – like some sort of lost puppy he found on the side of the road. He wanted to make sure he’d be fine.

“Exactly!” Ann nodded. “He’s a sweet guy… maybe a little clueless, but he’s sweet. He’ll get into it!”

“You said he had amnesia, right?” Haru asked.

“Yeah… something like that. It’s kind of worrying, especially considering that someone seemed to be after him.”

“I accompanied him to the doctor’s before our shift tonight,” Ann’s pigtails danced a little as she leaned forward to make sure no one else was hearing them. “Apparently they seem to think his memories will gradually come back, as there is no indication of anything serious. They think it most likely has to do with trauma.”

Haru let out a small sigh. “Oh, dear.”

Akira glanced back to Ian’s direction, who caught his eyes this time. He grinned and waved at him – almost dropping the guitar in the process.

“What a tool,” Futaba mused, although her voice lacked any edge. Akira could definitely understand her in that regard. He smiled at Ian and nodded at him to come over.

“Akira! Hey, man,” Ian greeted him with a toothy grin, reaching from ear to ear as he approached them. “Thank you again for all you did for me!”

“It’s nothing,” he shrugged, feeling somewhat unsure about how to handle praise, especially when Ian’s smile was about as bright as his hair. “It’s a good thing that Igor agreed. And there was also just a moving out in my building, which meant vacancy, so…”

“Nonsense, you were a huge help,” Ian insisted. “And uh, how did you like my playing? I have a lot to work on, I know, but… I just remember how important it was. I had to have been good. Perhaps I can get back into it soon.”

“Yes, even if most customers end up leaving –”

“You’ll get there,” Akira said quickly, interrupting Futaba. “And how are you? Had any trouble with anything else?”

“Nah, I’m cool,” Ian grinned once more, fidgeting with his hands briefly before motioning towards the guitar. “I better get back to it now. Thank you for everything again, man. I’ll see you around.”

“Of course,” he nodded, lifting his glass for another sip – only to realize it was empty again.

He really didn’t drink this much normally. But today…

“Ann… one more rum and coke, please.”

One more turned into three more, and the time flew by aswell. Akira wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting there, mind spinning because of all the things Kristian said to him, but somewhere along there his friends slowly dispersed and headed back home. He leaned forward on the table and rested his head on his folded arms – it was to try and cease the speed in which the whole bar seemed to start whirling around excessively, but it didn’t seem to help.

There were not many customers remaining at all as it was nearing closing time, so the jingle of the door surprised him.

“Ah, sorry! Am I perhaps too late?” A smooth, gentle voice… belonging to a relatively young guy, Akira figured.

“Not at all. Please sit wherever you’d like!” He heard Igor say.

Akira noted somewhere in his intoxicated brain that Igor apparently didn’t mind extending business hours if necessary, but he didn’t pay much mind to it. He tried to keep focusing on making the spinning stop instead… slowly but surely it got a little better.

“Excuse me…,” hearing the voice from before so close now alerted him a little, so he slowly raised his head to glance up; only to see that the owner of said voice was sitting in his booth, opposite of him.

Akira blinked a few to get his eyes accustomed to the dim lighting once more, and to focus on the stranger in front of him. It took a relatively embarrassing amount of seconds until he succeeded, and when he did, his brows rose up a little; the guy in front of him looked like he just stepped out of a magazine’s pages, or perhaps got here after some sort of photoshoot. He was wearing a white shirt, with the top buttons open just enough to showcase his collarbones, and a black choker-type necklace that brought just as much attention to his neck. He had light brown mid-length hair, his bangs falling into curious eyes in an unruly but stylized fashion. And his face… he was not just attractive. He was downright goddamn beautiful.

Akira turned his attention to all the empty booths around them before glancing back at the stranger. “Um…”

“Ah, I apologize for intruding,” hottie let out a melodic little laugh before tilting his head to the side. “You just seemed pretty out of it over here, so I thought I’d make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, thanks,” he assured, still feeling somewhat puzzled nonetheless.

Hottie just hummed as he slowly wrapped his fingers around his glass – Akira frowned, wondering when the stranger got himself a drink, or just how long he’d been really sitting there before he decided to talk to him – before realizing the specific way he had his hand on his glass was incredibly suggestive. His eyes shot back up, only to see hottie smiling at him knowingly.

He tore his eyes away once more as he felt his ears burn; this was definitely the alcohol’s fault. He was clearly imagining things.

“So what does a handsome guy like you do alone at a place like this?”

…Or maybe he wasn’t. His eyes widened as he looked back up, attempting to do a double take; “Huh?”

Except there was no one sitting there – he frowned, then nearly jumped out of his skin as he felt the mysterious guy sliding next to him.

“Sorry, mind if I sit here?”

Akira instinctively scurried to the other end until his side pressed against the end of the booth. “Actually, I –,” he began, sounding rather pathetic.

“Wow, are you sure you’re alright?” Hottie interrupted with a small smile playing on his lips, looking every bit amused. He sure had the charm and charisma working for him, but Akira felt overwhelmed being at the other end of it.

He froze as the stranger reached out to brush some of his hair out of his eyes, feeling too unnerved and shocked to say or do anything, especially with his intoxicated mind being slowed down so ridiculously.

“You feel rather hot,” he mused in a concerned tone, and Akira could feel his skin heat up even more under his touch, especially as their eyes met and the stranger smiled at him once more. He took a note on how red his eyes seemed up close. Dangerously red. God, he was looking at him like… like he wanted to _devour_ him. Akira feel the hairs beginning to stand at the back of his neck.

“Actually, I… don’t feel good,” he mumbled, starting to see two of the guy in front of him – and even one was more than enough. He attempted to steady himself by gripping the edge of the table… and then everything went black.

*

Akira had no clue where he was; he was standing on a platform of various blocks placed on each other, reaching high, with the platform itself seemingly floating in the air. He looked down at himself, noting he was only wearing his boxers – the only thing he wore to bed on summer nights – and spun around helplessly, brushing a frustrated hand through his hair. That’s when he felt it; there were twirled horns on either side of his head. He tried pulling on them, but they seemed to be completely attached.

“What the…,” he gasped, carefully stepping towards the edge to look down. He stirred as the ground shook under his feet, watching in horror as the lower parts of the platform disconnected and fell into the abyss below him. Somewhere in his mind he registered that this was most definitely a dream, and that the goal should be pretty straightforward in theory; he had to climb and avoid falling down because even if this was very clearly just a dream, he did not want to find out what would’ve happened if he accidentally fell into the nothingness below.

He turned and jumped onto the blocks that formed something akin to a staircase and climbed, his heart beginning to thump rapidly soon enough from the ominous sounds and shakes as the lower levels continued to fall. For something that was so clearly a dream, something about it all was sure terrifying.

Navigating near the top didn’t turn out to be especially difficult, although he realized soon enough that it required some tactics with pushing and pulling blocks around to create pathways; he couldn’t simply continue climbing without that. He found himself to be rather vigilant, perhaps because of the fear of not moving fast enough. There was an odd, hurried urging at the back of his mind that only chanted one thing; get out of here.

Once he had the finish line in sight, he let out a relieved sigh and made the mistake of moving too quickly, without thinking the next step through; he essentially trapped himself, and was left hanging off by the edge with no footing after pulling a block too hastily. He could see that there was a way to go around and make it, but with how quickly the ground kept disappearing below, he knew he had no time to drop and go the other way.

“Shit… Oh, shit!” He muttered, panic slowly getting a hold of him as he desperately tried to look for another possibility. His eyes widened when he heard some sort of odd melody; he felt like he heard it before, but wasn’t sure where. The shaking of the blocks stopped abruptly, and Akira knew that this time he could drop and make it up in time – he could just feel that it was safe. So he squeezed his eyes shut and let go, groaning as he reached the bottom and began to climb up as fast as he could on the other side, practically crashing through the weird door at the very top.

His vision was hazy for a moment, and once it cleared, he almost wished it didn’t; he was standing on another floating platform – though this one didn’t seem to want to fall anytime soon, which was definitely an upgrade compared to the one with the blocks – but it was full of… sheep. Not your usual type of sheep though, these were walking on two legs and talking like people, while others were passed out on the floor, exhausted. The whole platform was covered in benches, their setting reminding him of some sort of church – the direful chimes of a bell only aiding that. This had to be by far the most messed up dream he ever had…

Glancing to the left side, he froze yet again.

“Ian?!”

Ian looked at him upon hearing his name, placing his guitar down and hurrying over to him – that’s when Akira realized that it was his guitar playing that he heard earlier.

“Akira! Are you all right?” He sounded worried, but Akira could only stare at him with a frown. He was the only other person that actually looked like a human; except he had no horns on his head like he did, but instead was radiating some sort of strange light.

The sudden realization that he was standing in front of him in nothing but his underwear caught up to him, attempting to shield his lower region at least a little. God, he hated this dream. “I… what’s going on here?”

Ian smiled brightly then, clapping his hands together – and clearly paying no mind to his embarrassment. “I think I was right about my music! When I play, it seems to help people.”

“You mean… the sheep?” He asked, unsure.

Ian tilted his head to the side, eyes warm and honest. “Oh, I guess you all see each other as sheep, then. I see everyone here as humans.”

Akira thought about that for a moment, looking at the sheep once more – some of them were discussing certain climbing techniques, while others were panicking and talking about some sort of curse. It didn’t make any sense, but he was in a dream, so he tried to tell himself it also didn’t really matter. He couldn’t quite shake off the dreadful feeling about it, though… everything that happened was incredibly unsettling.

“The exit is right there!” Ian pointed at another robust door at the other end of the room, making him snap out of his stupor. “If you made it up here, that means you are safe!” Ian sounded serious, and Akira caught his eyes once more, not sure what to make any of it.

“Just go on ahead, man! That way you get to wake up in reality,” he nudged him lightly, and Akira figured there was no point in trying to find logic in anything else. He nodded, and went for the door – he definitely did want this dream to end.

Akira’s eyes flew open, and for a moment it seemed like the ceiling was just getting back into its place. He was breathing a little heavily – he knew he must’ve had a bad dream, but he couldn’t recall anything of it aside from… trying to hurry and escape? He slowly sat up, a hand moving up to brush through his messy hair almost like a reflex. As he slid his hand down his cheek, he noticed something from the corner of his eye; the silhouette of a body laying next to him.

His blood went cold. He didn’t remember calling Kristian over.

He turned his head slowly, his heart jumping into his throat as he did, afraid of what might be waiting for him – and it was worse than anything he could’ve predicted.

“Fuck,” he breathed, staring at the stranger from last night, covered only by his blanket thrown neatly over his hips, sleeping soundly right next to him. In his bed.

This was bad. This… couldn’t have been real. Akira’s mind was buzzing, and he felt himself go entirely numb; he detested cheating, he found it absolutely immoral and cruel towards the other person. Could he have gotten drunk enough to throw away his values just like that?! He didn’t remember anything about the previous night, aside from meeting this guy. Everything after that was such a blur… what on earth has he done?

“Oh… you’re up,” he stirred upon hearing the stranger’s voice – it was too soft and compelling, which it had no right to be. He was looking at him now, eyeing him with a lazy but coquettish smile. His brown hair was scattered around the pillow as he turned to him, and Akira gulped. He absolutely refused to call him hottie in his head anymore, although he really _was_ gorgeous, so apparently it was not the alcohol that made him look all too attractive to be human.

“Hey, what… what happened?” He managed to ask, although it couldn’t have been any more obvious. He was still hoping for some sort of miracle, anything the guy would tell him to get him out of how horrible he was feeling.

“Oh, I suppose you were quite drunk. Still, it’s such a shame you don’t remember any of it,” the stranger chuckled this time, and it both crushed his hopes and made something in him stir.

“We… what did we do?” He tried again nonetheless like the fool he was, voice small and terrified, even to his own ears.

“Oh, don’t make me say it,” the stranger seemed to blush a little before he kicked the blankets off – and _thank_ _God_ he was wearing boxers, even if they were just slightly tighter than his own and left barely anything to his imagination – and climbed over to him, making Akira fall back onto his back with a sharp inhale as the guy threw one leg over him and seated himself on his lap, straddling him. And Jesus Christ, _that_ also left barely anything to his imagination. “It _was_ absolutely incredible, though,” he purred, looking down at him.

Akira felt his whole face heat up as he shook his head almost violently, perhaps to chase certain thoughts away, too. “Wait! I’m –”

“Although before you make any assumptions, please allow me to just say one thing,” the stranger interrupted him, his eyes capturing his own in a way he was actually unable to look away. He felt like he was drowning in red. “I want you to know that I don’t normally do this… at all. I agreed when you invited me because I genuinely like you…,” his eyes widened as the stranger caressed his cheek softly. “You might think I’m silly, but I believe it was fate that we met.”

Akira felt spellbind, unable to form coherent thoughts for a moment aside from all he was feeling and seeing of this stranger he knew nothing about – except that he had impressive levels of charm, and was apparently capable of making his brain stutter and shut down. He blinked helplessly a few times, trying to get out of whatever trance he found himself in. “I… I don’t even know your name,” was all that came out though, and the stranger let out that melodic laugh once more.

“I suppose that slipped your mind, too… Akira,” his skin tangled at the back of his neck from the way he said his name. And he absolutely hated that. Why was he so – “My name is Christian.”

_Oh, fuck no._

He could feel himself pale to a most likely very unhealthy color, feeling all around wrong and sick, opening his mouth to talk, but Christian interrupted him once again as he gasped, rolling off of him – which he _was_ immensely grateful for, actually.

“Shoot, I forgot I have to get to work earlier today. I’m sorry but I will have to run,” he said hurriedly as he got dressed impressively quickly, then sent one last coy smile his direction. “But I’ll call you. Thanks.”

“Wait!” Akira exclaimed, but Christian was already out of the door, leaving him alone with his guilt and the mess he’d gotten himself into, only mumbling to himself. “I… have a boyfriend.”

He let his head fall back onto the bed as he grabbed a pillow and threw it over his face to curse into it. Perhaps suffocating would be a deserved punishment, but he wasn’t so lucky. He flinched as he felt pressure on the bed, letting out a relieved sigh when he realized it was just his cat, Morgana.

“Where were _you_ hiding?”

Morgana just stared at him, his fur somewhat puffed up. Akira didn’t blame him; if he could talk, he’d probably express his disapproval, too – and rightfully, at that.

He couldn’t believe that somehow he allowed this to happen. He screwed up… he screwed everything up in the worst possible way.

*

“You did what?!” Futaba’s voice was shrill enough to capture everyone’s attention in the sushi bar, both of them earning various disapproving and curious glances as a result.

Akira eyed the piece of salmon roll that Futaba dropped back onto her plate, not intending to repeat any of that whatsoever. It was a sort of tradition to occasionally get sushi together – like in early days, when Futaba’s guardian Sojiro was taking care of him. The usually cheerful atmosphere was gone now, though. He still felt horrible about what happened, trying to wrap his head around it – and consistently failing every time.

“Sorry, I just…,” Futaba lowered her voice as she leaned closer to him, more careful this time. “I wouldn’t have ever taken you for the cheating type.”

“Because I’m not!” Now it was him who had a hard time trying to keep his voice down.

Futaba only gave him a _Look_ in response, and he huffed in frustration.

“There’s no excuse for it, I know,” he shook his head with a sigh, putting his chopsticks down. His appetite was gone. “I don’t remember anything either… all I know is that I would’ve never done any of that if I was more aware of what was happening.”

“What a mess,” she sighed, her expression turning sorrowful for a moment. “Poor Kristian.”

Akira immediately winced. “God, don’t even remind me,” he buried his face in his hands on the table.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’ll come clean with Kristian. Tell him, apologize and… see what happens. I’ll tell the other guy that it was a mistake, and won’t happen again,” his voice was muffled as he talked into his hands. He heard Futaba hum.

“So…,” she began, and he moved his hands to look at her. “What is he like?”

She was smiling, and talked without judgement in her voice – there was only pure curiosity. He felt grateful, although he probably didn’t deserve it. Still, he knew he made a good call sharing this with Futaba first; they had a sort of familial bond that perhaps made it easier.

“I mean, to be able to get you into a situation like that, he must be quite special, huh? Is he my type?” She was grinning now, Akira recognizing it as an attempt to make him feel better even in this insane situation.

He sighed, staring down at his hands. “Well, he does seem rather… special for sure. Ridiculously attractive, too.”

“Well, that makes sense,” Futaba grinned even wider upon seeing his frown. “You seem to attract pretty boys. Then again, it’s no surprise, considering,” she motioned towards him with her chopsticks, as if trying to make a point.

He shook his head. “Either way, he’s not your type.”

“Why not?” She pouted, as if there was _any_ possibility whatsoever that she would even try to hit on a guy Akira had a history with. And in a way, Kristian. Let alone like _this_.

He continued to humor her though. “Just trust me.”

_Because he’s my type._

He felt nauseated for a moment, even from his own thoughts. He laughed along with Futaba, but his guilt didn’t subside.

*

Akira got back to his place later that afternoon, so caught up in his own head that he only noticed the neighboring apartment’s door was wide open as he was in the process of opening his own. He stopped, turning the key back and pocketing it instead as he walked over to the opened door.

There was a brief sense of worry sweeping through his veins just before reaching it; that perhaps whoever was chasing Ian the other night somehow found him, and did God knows what to him. His concern was replaced by a relieved sigh as he peeked his head inside, seeing Ian’s blonde hair moving amongst several huge boxes scattered around.

“Ian?” He called hesitantly, not wanting to seem weird by just standing there, but also wanting to check in to make sure he was doing okay.

Ian turned on his heels a little too fast, a wide grin appearing on his face momentarily – then turning into a frown as he lost his balance. “Akira! Hi, dude – oh, shit!”

There was a loud crash as Ian disappeared behind the fort of boxes.

Akira tried his best to fight his way through the several obstacles created by them and get to Ian, who was sitting in the middle of them helplessly, scratching at his head.

“Are you okay? I didn’t mean to startle you,” he held out his hand with a small smile.

“Yeah, no worries,” Ian took his hand and jumped up, the grin already back on his face.

“Aside from that, what is going on here?” He turned his glance to the boxes scattered around.

“A real mess, huh?” Ian shifted his weight on his legs as he followed his eyes. “I didn’t have a whole lot of stuff to put out in here so I figured I’d try making it more lively, but now it’s just… like this.”

Ironically, it was sometimes easy to forget about Ian’s temporary amnesia – the guy was so full of life, always smiling…

“Want me to help out?” He offered, turning back to him. “It’d be faster together.”

Ian’s eyes widened as he shook his head. “No way man, you already helped me plenty by showing me this place, and getting that job so I can manage it. Most people would’ve walked away as is. I won’t let you help me unpack too –”

“Oh, please,” he waved him off. “It’s no trouble. I’ll make us some coffee after. I’d say now but it seems like the kitchen is also a warzone at the moment.”

Ian was a good guy, and he wanted him to know he really didn’t mind helping. Besides, packing could also help taking his mind off of things, although that was beside the point here.

Ian tilted his head for a moment, eyeing him curiously – and then the grin was back. “Okay, then sure… thanks, dude.”

It took quite a bit of time to unpack, sort, and get rid of at least most of the bigger boxes, but Akira was satisfied with the outcome; the small apartment was soon walkable again. Once Ian reassured him he’d really take care of the rest himself, Akira headed for the – now also – cleared up kitchen area to prepare the coffee.

He watched as Ian’s expression perked up after taking a sip. “Whoa, this is amazing!”

“Thanks,” he smiled a little, seating himself on the chair next to him. “I used to help out at a café in my teens. Rubbed off on me.”

“I can tell,” Ian nodded with approval. “I don’t usually drink a lot of coffee… uh, find it too bitter. But this is really good. I could drink this often.”

He hummed, taking a sip himself – silently thanking Sojiro in his mind. “If you think so, then you should try my curry.”

“Dude, don’t tempt me!”

They laughed a little – and that felt nice today. It was so easy to get along with Ian; he was genuine, and Akira found it easier to be himself around him, too. The guy practically radiated a safe and non-judgmental aura.

Wait, radiated…?

There was something in the back of his mind that he couldn’t quite recall, although it felt rather important. Well, perhaps not so important if he had trouble remembering. He shook his head, turning his gaze back to Ian; who was already looking at him with curiosity in his eyes.

“So, maybe we should exchange phone numbers,” he said, already reaching for his phone. “So you can call me in case you need help with anything else. Or if we just want to hang out.”

Ian grinned once more, taking his phone out aswell. “Sure, just uh. Ann gave me her old phone when I told her I didn’t have one on me, and I’m just… well, I’m not entirely sure –”

“I got this, just watch” he interrupted him with a smile, taking the phone from him and adding his number as Ian peeked at the screen from the side. “Here, now you try.”

Ian took Akira’s phone with a grateful expression, typed in the number and name, then gave it back to him. And as Akira looked at the contact name, he almost fell off the chair.

“Q… Uh… Qristian?” He stammered, reading it out. Just to make sure. Just to say it out loud and perhaps _wake up _because this wasn’t seriously happening_._

To his great dismay, Ian just chuckled, confirming that yes, this was very much happening. “That’s my full name.”

“Your full… ah,” he nodded slowly, beginning to put two and two together.

Qristian… Ian.

_Christ._

“Do you… hmm. Would you mind if I kept calling you Ian?” He asked, trying to keep his voice from breaking and giving away how unbelievable this was – of course he was another one. Why wouldn’t he be?

“Of course not. I like that nickname,” Ian smiled at him.

“Good, good. It’s just… I know one too many of those,” he laughed nervously, watching as Ian tilted his head again in confusion, clearly having no idea what he was talking about, bless him. “Anyway, I should go now.”

He stood, and Ian walked him over to the door with the ever present grin, thanking him one more time. He was walking towards his own apartment when he heard Ian calling his name.

He turned, raising a brow.

“Just… be careful tonight.”

He frowned as the warning settled in his head uncomfortably. “Huh? What do you mean?”

Something flashed on Ian’s face, almost like he understood something that he himself missed. He shook his head, smiling. “Never mind. I’ll see you later.”

*

Truth to be told, Akira was almost as glad as he was miserable upon learning that everyone already knew about what happened by the time he got to Bar Velvet. He still felt beyond awful, but he was grateful for Futaba; he didn’t want to have to repeat telling it to anyone ever again. Except for… well. Kristian, when the time came.

“I still can’t believe you did such a thing,” Haru said quietly, further aiding his self-hatred – although he knew that was not her intention. Still, in a way he felt even more horrible hearing it from her. She was too good, too pure when it came to feelings; he felt like he personally ruined all her beliefs.

“Oh, but you didn’t even hear the best part yet!” Futaba chimed in, ready to tease him further.

“What is it?” Ann asked, just as she got to their booth. Akira closed his eyes, wishing he could just disappear altogether.

“Akira, why don’t you tell them his name?” His eyes opened back up as Futaba nudged him in the side with a chuckle.

“Christian,” he said with a sigh, repeating it when all the girls just continued staring at him. “Yes. You heard it right. His name is Christian.”

“Well,” Makoto began, trying to conceal her smile by placing her hand in front of her mouth. “At least this way you won’t mix up their names.”

Futaba nearly spat out her drink while Ann giggled gleefully.

Akira groaned, folding his arms on his chest as he leaned back in his seat. He briefly wondered how they would react if he told them Ian also shared a name with them, then concluded he didn’t want to find out. “Except there won’t be an opportunity for that. I won’t keep this up.”

Makoto gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. You do kind of deserve it, though.”

Well, he couldn’t disagree with that.

Once Ann regained her composure, she nodded along. “Yes, talking to them is the most important step. You owe them both an explanation. Especially Kristian.”

He nodded, busying himself with taking a few sips of his drink and listening to the girls talk, the conversation eventually – thankfully – drifting from him. Apparently another regular died… it was shown on the news. Akira recalled seeing him around; he was not much older than them. The cause was unknown, like with the previous customer.

“Perhaps we are cursed,” Ann whispered lowly, humor and a hint of nervousness mixing in her voice. Futaba played along, making ghostly sounds while checking her phone.

“Do you think so?” Haru, on the other hand, looked rather concerned.

“Of course not,” Makoto reassured, shaking her head. “It’s just an unfortunate coincidence.”

Meanwhile Akira noted that his glass was empty. He really didn’t plan on drinking more again after everything that happened, but perhaps just two glasses wouldn’t hurt. “Ann, can I have one more?”

Igor called her over at the same time – she seemingly spent a little too much time by their table again. She threw him a smile as she walked ahead. “I’ll tell Ian to fetch you some.”

“Just be mindful of your drinking,” Makoto reminded with a knowing look. “Wouldn’t want to get into even more of a mess, right?”

“I know, of course,” he sighed, feeling saved as his phone buzzed in his pocket.

He pulled out his phone while the girls continued their conversation among themselves, the initial relieved feeling dispersing entirely upon seeing two unopened messages; one from Kristian, one from an unknown number. He exhaled slowly before tapping on the first one.

**Kristian: **Will you be available tomorrow? I’d like to have late lunch together, if you’re able. I’m having a meeting about next week’s exhibition until two, and it would be nice to see you after.

His fingers were trembling as he typed a reply, the guilt just about crushing him now that he was talking to him. It was a good opportunity, though; he had to tell him, and it was better sooner than later.

**Akira:** Tomorrow sounds good. I’ll meet you there after you finish. Have a good night, Kristian.

He hesitated before clicking on the next message. He already knew who it was from before he opened it. A logical, reasonable voice in his head told him to just ignore it altogether, but for some reason, he couldn’t listen. His thumb only hovered over it a moment longer before giving in.

**Unknown:** Are you going to be at the bar again tonight? I want to see you...

His throat went dry as he stared at the message, feeling some sort of unnerving buzzing under his skin that shouldn’t have been there.

“Akira!” He jumped, immediately pocketing his phone as a reflex upon hearing Makoto’s voice. “Gosh, you were zoning out. Ian got your drink.”

He looked to the side to see that surely; Ian was standing at their table with a bright smile, and with his rum and coke on his tray.

“Ooh, who were you texting? Your boyfriend? And if so, which one?” Futaba teased from next to him, and Akira truly, _honestly_ wished there wasn’t as much truth in that as there was.

He watched Ian tilt his head a little, puzzled. He really was like some sort of stray puppy, huh?

“Please don’t listen to her,” Akira asked with a no doubt painful expression, to which Ian just laughed a little.

“Sure dude, okay,” he smiled as he placed his drink down. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

Ian’s eyes locked with his own just for a brief moment before he walked away, and perhaps it was the drink or the mindset he was in that what he said sounded like it meant more than just an offer about ordering.

He shook his head to get rid of the thought; he was clearly losing his mind.

He kept his promise to himself and didn’t drink any more than that. Once the girls dispersed, he reached for the last bit of his drink to finish up and head home, too.

“Rum and coke again, hmm?” The buttery voice sent a shiver down his spine, causing him to just about choke on his drink. Seemingly he wasn’t quite fast enough – although a small voice in his head told him that perhaps he stalled on purpose. He ignored it.

Christian smiled warmly as he seated himself opposite him. “Not bad. Although personally I’m more of a wine guy myself.”

Akira blinked towards the bar, where Igor was wiping a glass and seemed to be engaged in some sort of conversation with Ann, who was sitting leisurely at a bar stool. Ian seemed passed out on the other end, with an empty plate next to him. No one was paying them any mind.

“I’m glad you were here. I wasn’t sure if you got my text,” Christian spoke again once he didn’t reply, and Akira’s attention snapped back to him. Well, this was his chance to talk to him; to tell him he was taken, and whatever happened between them was a mistake that couldn’t go on.

So why the hell was he just sitting there like a fool, unable to talk?

“I… I have to use the restroom,” he managed to say, standing up. “I’ll be right back.”

Christian raised a brow, but didn’t say anything as he escaped into the small room at the other end of the bar. He knew by now that there were no windows or anything of the sort there that he could use to escape, but at least he could give himself a time out. To pull himself together, collect his thoughts and _talk_ to him. Tell him everything that needed to be said and put an end to this unfortunate situation. He _knew_ he didn’t want to keep it up, but he didn’t understand why Christian threw him so off balance.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror and had the urge to smash it. Perhaps spit on it. Before he could’ve done any of the sort, the door opened and Christian slipped inside. Akira froze.

“You were taking long, so I figured perhaps it was a sign for me to follow you,” he looked almost bashful as he walked next to him in the confined little room. “And while I wouldn’t do anything too naughty in here… I’m not against a little making out.”

Christian hopped onto the counter effortlessly, and Akira felt like the room was starting to spin. He needed out. Immediately.

“Look, I actually need to talk to you,” he said finally, making the mistake of looking into Christian’s eyes and once again getting a little lightheaded from the overwhelmingly tempting red. “I can’t –”

“Oh, it’s really not that big of a big deal,” Christian interrupted him with a chuckle, pulling him closer and wrapping his legs around his waist. Akira’s mind was screaming, and he shook his head vehemently.

“No, listen –”

“Akira, relax,” Christian chuckled, his arms snaking around his neck now too, and he was so close, way too damn close. “If kissing in the restroom is really so out of the question, we won’t do it.”

He completely misunderstood what he was trying to say. On top of it all, his eyes didn’t let go of his own, and Akira felt captured, like a fly in the spider’s net. That, except the aura coming from Christian was not necessarily as intimidating as it was playful. Underneath it all, he almost seemed shy. And he smelled good… Akira’s lips parted on their own to breathe it in.

_Fuck!_

Without a second thought, he reached for the sink next to them and yanked the faucet up with so much power the water started spraying heavily everywhere. Christian yelped and jumped off the counter, letting him go, which essentially meant his plan worked. On the other hand, he struggled to get the faucet to _stop_ now, cursing under his breath before it eventually gave in and the impromptu waterfall ceased.

There were water droplets falling from his bangs, but he didn’t especially mind; he turned back to Christian – who got rather soaked, though. His white shirt was clinging to his skin, and his hair was damp here and there. Worst of all, he was giving him a sultry look along with a smirk.

“Did you do that on purpose?”

_Oh, Christ._

“N-No!” He insisted – because while yes, he purposely tried to create an intermission, getting him all wet was not necessarily the goal. “Anyway, sorry but I can’t hang out tonight. We’ll talk later,” he added before promptly storming off without looking back.

There was only one thing on his mind, and that was ‘escape’. Escape from Christian, the thoughts he put into his head somehow, and from this whole entire situation. He cursed himself for not telling him straight what was happening, but tomorrow. He’ll talk to the both of them seriously… tomorrow.


End file.
